


The Conjurer

by Sjukdom



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjukdom/pseuds/Sjukdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed is making origami penguins for Oswald.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Conjurer

The paper made soft rustling sounds as it was laid out, smoothed and folded again and again, the noises usually imagined to resemble the whisper of dry leaves carried away by the wind except that they had a very distinct mechanical quality to them. Every manipulation with the paper had already been performed so many times it was perfect in the sense of the industrial machinery's perfection. The result of all these activities was also flawless - out of ordinary faceless paper sheets that left thin layers of paper dust on the skin a tiny beautiful figure of a penguin was made. One after one, each penguin a true masterpiece of the origami art. When a new one was born and given a carefully painted pair of eyes, it was presented with the sight of the whole army of its paper brethren - black and white birds filled nearly the whole room, however small it was. Origami penguins crowded the dark corners of it, motionless and silent, staring in every direction with their eyes, dark and deprived of any emotion despite being expertly pictured. They sat on the neatly covered bed, allowing only a little bit of free space for the person that slept there. They stood on the floor in long rows so close to each other one could barely see what was beneath them. There was only one spot that was uninhabited by the paper birds that surrounded it like a silent army, not moving and yet getting closer and closer. 

When Ed was done with another origami penguin and placed it among the others, he thought that soon he wouldn't be able to leave his ward without the risk of destroying a figure or two, which was, of course, unacceptable. The thought wasn't colored with any bright emotion, it was as mechanical as the process of making new penguins. It wasn't a nice hobby to entertain himself while being stuck here, it was a hard work leading him to his goal. Ed blinked, feeling how sore his eyes were, how tired and irritated by the paper dust that also soiled his palms. It was invisible, but the feeling of dirt smeared upon his skin was quite real. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, seeing tiny bright lights shimmering under his closed eyelids, opened them again with a sigh and reached out for another sheet of paper. 

Out of the corner of his eye he glanced occasionally at the impressive number of his creations, a flood of angled shapes, schematic but entirely recognizable. It was a sign that he was growing tired. He was losing concentration. Ed gritted his teeth, smoothing and folding, his hands moving with skilled effectiveness. Neither hastily nor too slowly. That was what he needed - a steady growth of paper penguins’ number. There were already so many of them, it seemed, but Ed knew that he needed to make more. A whole thousand. So he started to make yet another one, without remembering where he had put the penguin he had been making previously.

Funny thing was that all this robot-like industrial-scaled work was based on the myth. The fairy tale, the belief. Ed remembered that creating a thousand paper cranes could get your wish granted by Gods. However, it seemed unlikely that any Gods would notice his attempts at turning bright-colored pieces of paper into cranes here. And Ed wasn't so sure some Gods were able to grant his wish properly. So he decided to perform the ritual in his own manner, altering it according to his own circumstances. He started making paper penguins instead of cranes to be certain that the right person would be conjured by them, the right wish would be granted .

Even if Gods would still be oblivious to his efforts, at least he would be able to show Oswald this little exhibition. Ed stopped for a moment, giving his eyes, his scratched fingers and his aching back some rest, imagining the look on Oswald's face when he would see the whole origami army standing at his feet. Perhaps, he would even gasp in admiration, transfixed with Ed’s work, so hard, so profound. Ed would stand by his side, proud and happy to see Oswald so amazed at the wonder he created. And then, when Oswald would manage to tear his mesmerized gaze from the unexpected present, he would look Ed straight in the eyes before parting his lips to, to murmur words of gratitude or to express it without any words. Ed let the pleasant images wash over his exhausted mind, relieving it from the haze of the mechanical work and energizing it. He hoped they had at least anything to do with the reality that would follow.

Well, then. He didn't have much to do here anyway.

Carefully Ed placed the freshly-made origami penguin among others. Slowly, but deliberately they crawled towards his feet, claiming more and more space. Slowly, but deliberately, hoped Ed, Oswald was fixing his mind and body, abused badly right where he was now himself. Slowly, but deliberately Oswald was approaching Ed, each step marked by one more paper bird. 

One after one, eight hundred ninety ninth penguin, nine hundredth penguin, Oswald is walking through Arkham's iron gates, nine hundred sixty seventh penguin, Oswald is stepping into the maze of long narrow corridors painted white, nine hundred ninety eighth penguin, almost there, nine hundred ninety ninth, Ed is sitting at the table, clutching one of his paper creations nervously…

And with the thousandth one, the doors are opening.


End file.
